Dark Dream...

Looks can be deceiving...

A simple farm boy from tiny village... who knew what I would one day become.

Who knew my hunger would control my destiny...

My whole life is a blur... just yesterday it would seem, I was a soldier... fighting for my country...

Bullets like hellish rain... mortars crash like thunder, ironically, never in the same place twice...

A whole platoon... my men, my trusted men, men who would live and die at my command... blown to bits as the bunker collapsed on top of them... and me.

34 days... under the rubble.

34 days... with only my dead platoon for company.

34 days... without food or water.

Well... not entirely without food... my men, my trusted men, dead men... they kept me alive till the very end.

Focus now.

See through your target... look inside, see what 'she' is made of.

You would expect someone who does what I do for a living, to detach himself from his prey. Treat them like objects, a nameless mission. I don't... I always humanize my target, identify with her, love her, lust for her...

Its what amplifies the fun, the fun is in the chase, as they say. It makes her taste better. Unusual I know, but then so is my profession.

Watch her closely, and know what to expect. She knows what coming, and she is getting prepared. Watch her every step, every move, every stir... she can surprise you, but never let her baffle you.

I am back in the proverbial 'real world'.

Inducted with honor into a society that would be horrified if they knew all that I had done, all that I had seen.

I am not a patriot anymore... I am a monster now. A glutton for something much darker than food.

Don't judge me!! I am but a product of this society. A society of pretenses and excesses, where the most to gain from a commodity are the ones who decide its value, not the ones who create it. And it makes me mad... makes me want to feed off the rich and pretentious... laugh at their dead bored eyes as I feast on their fat...

I have no skill to create.. and I have no urge to learn. I am a fire, I can only consume.

And I am addicted. 34 nights in a bunker, eating the only thing available... Now I know no other food... I know no other feeling... except...

The decadent rush of devouring the most sinful food possible...

The vision of my mouth drenched dark as it would with wine, splashed across my face... yes I like to 'drink' when i feed

The guilt... that tortures me every night in memory of what I did... and the knowledge, that the only way to escape this guilt even for a little while, is to do it again.

Oh God.. stop.

Focus. You have her in your sights now. Sneak up behind her, close... closer.

Take a deep breath, feel her presence, inhale her essence, admire her, conquer her, but always respect her.

She knows what's coming, just not when. She is waiting, all dressed up and ready, for you.

Now, devour her.

"Mademoiselle...

She i... ahem... the dark chocolate souffle is delicious, a work of art indeed. The hint of vanilla, very nice touch. And oh, the raisins... please have a dozen crates sent to my home for further analysis."

Ah, my men, my trusted men... and the boxes of assorted chocolate protein bars they sneaked in.

Who would have thought my taste buds would be so refined?

A simple farm boy from tiny village... who knew that I would one day become... a chocolate taster.

Looks can be deceiving...